


Interlude: Darillium

by TheUniverseWillSing



Series: Unexplainable Stories [2]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Canon Het Relationship, F/F, F/M, Family, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-02
Updated: 2011-11-27
Packaged: 2017-10-25 15:42:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/271980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUniverseWillSing/pseuds/TheUniverseWillSing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after Too Much to Hold. Maggie meets River Song for the first, and last, time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Weeks passed with the Doctor on the TARDIS, all flying together into the same animal. Every day was a new adventure, another facet of history that would come long after Maggie was meant to have lived, and another song to swim in her veins. It was like a drug, a sickeningly sweet addiction, this draw to melodies and rhythm. Every hour was a new lesson in social interaction, and future expectations. She even began to take higher stock in fashions of the years ahead. There was a strange, foreign sort of beauty to the girls in their short skirts and patterned jumpers, with their hair shining in different-patterned rivulets over their shoulders, and false spectacles to magnify their sparkling eyes. She began to modify her clothing to match with their styles, feeling a raw sort of longing to belong with them deep in her heart.

It was enough to exhaust a girl, and yet every night Maggie lie awake thinking of everything she had seen in the waking hours, turning over it all in her mind. Eventually sleep did sneak up on Maggie, though without her knowledge of it happening. She had the most peculiar dreams of flying on one of the aeroplanes the Doctor told her about, with Holmes and Watson sitting across from her dancing like the young people in the concert hall. They looked different, younger, wearing the same modern clothes as the ones she had seen in Seattle. Maggie listened, straining her ears for the sound of their music, but heard instead a cacophony of noise, the screeching and winding of the aeroplane’s gears. How anyone could find this musical, she had no idea. The moment she realized there was no music Holmes and Watson stopped dancing and collapsed into seats opposite her, breathless. Then Watson pulled out his service revolver and shot her.

Maggie woke up with a gasp, clutching her chest for an imagined wound, then sat up. The sound she’d heard in the dream hadn’t been all in her head, but was the noise of the TARDIS in the process of landing. Where was he taking her now?

She stopped quickly in the wardrobe room to change clothes - this time in a darker pair of jeans that fit better and a yellow shirt that seemed incomplete but had a picture of a duck on the front - before leaving her room in search of the strange man. “Doctor?” she called to no avail, but then heard another voice in the kitchen, and followed it.

“Oh, sweetie, what’s got you so skittish now?” asked the woman in the kitchen. She sounded equal parts fond and amused, and Maggie didn’t want to interrupt so instead waited outside.

The Doctor seemed to fumble around for a moment before replying. “I’ve got a new companion.”

“Another human, I suppose? Where’s your sense of adventure gone? Can’t you get something carnivorous?”

Maggie furrowed her brow, leaning closer to the door.

“This one’s from the year 1900, she’s...different.”

“Different, you say? Not going to go falling in love with her, are you, my love?”

A low chuckle. “Of course not, dear. Only one girl for me.” Dear? Did the Doctor have a sweetheart after all? The very idea made Maggie smile to herself. Then she heard a buzz and the sound of sparks before the Doctor yelped with pain. “Ouch! Alright, alright, two! Two girls for me!”

“Going soft in your old age, sweetie?” laughed the woman in reply.

Old age? Maggie thought. But the Doctor looked no older to her than John Thomas, God rest him.

“I’m not _that_ old,” argued the Doctor, though there was a teasing quality to his voice that Maggie didn’t understand. “When I was loomed my father was already three thousand.”

Against all better judgment, she gasped, “ _What?!_ ” and swung into the kitchen. Immediately the Doctor and his lady friend turned to face her. The woman was very beautiful, though a bit old, it seemed, for such a young man. She had such wildly curly hair that one didn’t know where it began or ended, and a razor-sharp smile that was warmed by the twinkle in her eyes.

“Oh, hello there, sweetie,” said the woman, and Maggie, suddenly imagining herself to be at home, dropped into a curtsey before remembering herself and blushing.

"Beg pardon, I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but...did you really just say your father was three thousand years old?"

The Doctor smiled cryptically and leaned back against the kitchen table. "Maggie, this is River Song, my wife. River, Maggie Moss."

Still distracted, Maggie shook River's hand. "It's a pleasure," smiled River. She shook hands like a man.

"Likewi- your _wife?_ " blurted Maggie, catching herself too late again. "My apologies! I simply didn't know the Doctor was married."

Mrs. Song seemed completely unbothered, crossing her arms and grinning. “It’s alright, he doesn’t tell many people. I was just dropping by before I’m needed back at the university; darling, I have news,” she beamed, and that happiness seemed to reflect in the Doctor’s face as he took his wife’s hands.

“And what’s that, love?”

Maggie lowered herself into a seat at the table, hoping her presence wasn’t an intrusion on the couple’s privacy. It seemed to be confirmed when neither of them objected, so she poured herself a cup of tea from the pot. “Actually, it’s two things,” explained the other woman tacitly, nearly vibrating with anticipation. “I’ve been speaking with the board of directors, and they’ve finally gotten me permission to go on an expedition to The Library!”

“No!”

Both Mrs. Song and Maggie jumped at the gravity of the Doctor’s gasping shout, sending her teaspoon clattering to the floor while his wife furrowed her brow.

“No?” asked River, sounding slightly hurt.

The Doctor quickly shook his head and reinforced his grasp on his wife’s hands. “Not like that!” he amended. “Sorry! I didn’t mean it like _no_ no, I meant it more in the... _no!_ way. Like, you know, _no!_ ” Voice altered into one of excitement, the Doctor grinned and embraced his wife tenderly, continuing to speak into her shoulder. “I just...I know how long you’ve wanted to go to The Library...I’m so proud of you.”

Maggie averted her gaze as the Doctor squeezed his eyes shut, hiding his face in the crook of River’s shoulder for only a moment before pulling back and grinning. “Well! You said there was other news, what’s the other news?” he went on to ask.

There was a long stretch of quiet as River seemed to contemplate her answer. In the interim, she made the Doctor sit, then fidgeted before him. It seemed most unusual for a woman such as River Song to fidget, even if Maggie had only known her for all of five minutes.

“Sweetie,” she began slowly, her voice of the utmost calm. “You know how your - well, our - people were loomed?” The Doctor nodded blithely. “And you know how I’m half-human?” Again, he nodded, though Maggie was lost already. “And you know how we figured that our biologies didn’t match up properly?”

Once again, the Doctor nodded, but then went ominously still as realization seemed to strike him. “You’re pregnant.” It was a statement, not a question, and Maggie was so shocked that she accidentally snorted tea out her nose.

“Sorry,” she gasped when the pair turned to her, apparently having forgotten she was in the room. “I’ll just...er...leave you to your privacy.” Practically leaping up, she scuttled out of the kitchen and into the corridor, returning to her room.

Honestly, the depravity of it all! Certainly, the times had changed, but that didn’t seem to garner the rights to prattle on about one’s private life in...well, the privacy of their own kitchen. Still, they ought to have asked Maggie to leave, or at least taken the conversation to their own rooms. Then her mind turned to how the Doctor had reacted, not only to his wife being pregnant, but to the news of her expedition. He hadn’t seemed pleased in the slightest, even if he did backtrack to say he was. She couldn’t help wondering after the state of a marriage when the husband did not even mention to new acquaintances that he was married, or that neither of them wore rings. In fact...

The longer she thought, the more furious Maggie became, until ten minutes later the Doctor came rushing into her room, returned to his good spirits. “Maggie, we’re going on a picnic at Asgaard; wear a jacke-what?” he asked, bewildered by her clenched fists and flushed cheeks.

“Do you have _any_ regard for common decency?” she asked in a low voice. “You’re a married man, yet you sweep a girl up off the streets and take her to another city, another time, in your machine?”

He seemed to realize his error, and took a step back with his hands placatingly up. “Now, Maggie, I’ve already told you I had no untoward intentions!”

Throwing her hands in the air, Maggie forced herself to release the noise of frustration she instinctually repressed after years of training by her mother. “What does that matter when so many things you’ve told me is a falsity? You say you are alone, and you have a wife. You say you don’t want the future to frighten me, and you throw me headfirst into a confusing world of technology and noise! You say we will see the stars, and yet all we’ve been through is weeks of Earth, Earth, and more Earth!

“Who are you, Doctor? What are you, and why did you choose me for this endeavor?” she demanded at last, forced to sit on the edge of her bed to keep her knees from trembling. If ever she had spoken to her mother in such a way, she would have seen the sour end of a belt, and even if she did know that the Doctor was a good man, she didn’t want to know what tragedy had made him so good.

The Doctor seemed to think about answering for a long time, lowering to sit at the foot of her bed as well. They had long since abandoned her attempts for privacy in her room, as it was the one request the man seemed to forget. “I’m the Doctor,” he shrugged. “I’m a 1300-year-old Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey, in the constellation of Kasterborous: the Shining World of the Seven Systems. It’s dead now, gone in a war, and my wife and I are the last of our kind. That’ll have to be enough for now, as I left River in the console room and don’t want her driving.” He reached out and tentatively patted her knee.

“Your people are dead?” she asked softly, instantly regretting her anger.

The hand on her knee tightened briefly. “Yes, but that was a long time ago. You’re right, we ought to understand one another better if we’re going to continue to travel together, and as soon as this is over I’ll explain things properly, yes?”

Maggie nodded, and the Doctor gave her enough time to run to the wardrobe for a jacket before leading the way to the console room. By the time they made it the Doctor was again smiling, and River was practically bouncing with excitement at the console. “Can we pick up Mum and Dad as well, make it a proper celebration?” she asked the moment they opened the door, nearly running to her husband’s side.

“Of course we can!” the Doctor cried gleefully, already beginning to play with the controls of his ship. “Off to pick up the Ponds, not a proper party without the parents - are you going to tell them or shall I? Only I don’t want your mum to slap me or something equally ridiculous, like setting the Roman on me.”

Rather than replying, River merely laughed and held on tight. Taking this as a cue, Maggie grabbed onto the handrail just before everything went bonkers. Never before had she been so confused by a conversation, even after several weeks with the most unusual man in the universe.


	2. Chapter 2

The TARDIS landed in a quaint little neighborhood in a village Maggie had never been to, but the Doctor and River seemed to know very well. Even before they left the ship the door to the blue house was swinging open, and a pretty red-haired woman in her early thirties came streaking out at them. “Doctor!” she cried jubilantly. She was shortly succeeded by a beaming man with a protuberant nose and sandy brown hair.

“Amelia Williams!” replied the Doctor cheerfully, opening his arms and - looking at the other man, who nodded - catching the gorgeous woman in his embrace. Then he captured her husband in the same; these two, at least, had matching rings with which Maggie could tell they were together. “Well, look at you two! So young and spry! Oh, it brings back such fond memories. Now, we’re going on a picnic to Asgaard with your daughter and my new companion - you’ll love her, seventeen and brilliant - be sure to wear your jackets.”

She couldn’t help feeling flattered by the Doctor’s secondhand praise, even from inside the TARDIS, while River stepped out to meet the people she greeted as Mum and Dad. Well, that didn’t make any sense at all...

“Amy, Rory, this is Maggie Moss,” the Doctor introduced as he guided his friends onto the ship. “Maggie, Amy and Rory Williams.”

“Pond,” the couple corrected simultaneously, then turned to Maggie and grinned. “Hello Maggie, it’s nice to meet you.” Rory, the husband, shook her hand first. “Where are you from? Earth?”

Maggie blinked, not entirely certain until recently that there had been more than one option. “Likewise. Yes, I’m from London,” she replied politely, this time successfully repressing the instinct to curtsey. The Doctor shot her a look over his friends’ shoulders and she hastily added, “Oh! I’m also from the year 1900. My apologies; I forget to mention that.”

It was rather amusing, watching the Ponds as they processed this information then reeled back with shocked laughter. When the tawdry business of the introductions was taken care of they were off to a place called Asgaard. Maggie’s first alien planet - how thrilling.

“What’s it like?” she asked eagerly, rather like a child awaiting a visit from Father Christmas. “Is it temperate? Sunny? Overcast? Do the indigenous peoples look human? Do they speak English?”

“One at a time!” laughed the Doctor while his companions grinned nostalgically. “It’s the rainy season right now, but it makes the sky glow a most glorious shade of turquoise. The people are psychic - they read minds - rather than verbal. The TARDIS will translate all languages into your native tongue.”

“So they speak English?” Maggie asked pointedly.

She was stopped short by a finger poking the tip of her nose. “To you, they speak English. To me, they speak Gallifreyan. In fact, you’re all speaking Gallifreyan to me right now, and I’m replying in Gallifreyan, but to you all it sounds like English. Fun, isn’t it, psychic technology?” He grinned around at them all while they shook their heads, bewildered. “What?”

“Two years we were on that TARDIS, and you never mentioned that bit,” Amy shook her head, grinning. “Get us back in ten minutes, will you? Jemma and Mick are due back from school in twenty.”

A soft smile spread over the Doctor’s face as he checked a few screens above the steering console. “Jemma Pond and Mick Williams, brilliant names. River, have you met your siblings?”

“Doctor!” Maggie interjected, bouncing in place in a most undignified manner. “Not to be rude, but we’re on an alien planet and you’re having a bit of small talk. May we please carry on this riveting conversation outside?” The Doctor looked heartily amused by her impatience.

It was, oddly enough, Rory who came to her rescue, patting the Doctor on the shoulder. “Come on, Doctor, don’t leave the poor girl waiting any longer.”

Once dreamlike smile turning into an amused grin, the Doctor turned to Maggie. “Alright, alright, but first a few ru - oy!” She darted past him and through the doors of the TARDIS, leaving the old companions to share happy memories between themselves as she let out a shout of surprise and wonder.

“ _Oh!_ ” Maggie gasped to herself, staring almost straight up at the sky and turning circles in place, trying to see everything, take it all in. It was more than music, which was good for the ears and the heart and blood. This was sight. The skies were a rolling endless canvas of turquoise, as promised, with clouds that were not so much white as translucent, hanging low and shimmering in the air all around like shining fog. She reached out one hand and touched a tangible cloud hanging near her head and felt its wetness on her skin. Rainy season, indeed.

The grass was dark, a very deep shade of orange that was unbearably soft against Maggie’s hands when she reached down to touch it. Then, through the air, they came soaring: bicycles, rigged with propellers and wings and made to fly. Their riders were too small to be seen, but could be heard whooping at one another as they turned somersaults in the air. Maggie closed her eyes against the image from her daydreams and breathed deep, then turned to find the Doctor and company watching from the doors.

With a faint rustling in the soft turf, the basket and blanket for the picnic fell to the ground as the Doctor abandoned them to run to her side. Steady arms wrapped around her, and it was then that Maggie realized she was sobbing breathlessly. “Maggie, I’m sorry, is it too much?” he asked, pulling back to get a proper look into her teary eyes.

She shook her head frantically from side to side, holding on tightly to the wrists on the sides of her head. “This is the most beautiful place I’ve ever been,” she gasped. “It feels like a dream. I...I’ve never been so far from home, and yet felt more alive.” Impulsively, she threw her arms around the Doctor again, clutching his tweed jacket in insubstantial fingers.

As they began to exit the TARDIS one by one, Amy spared Maggie a fond smile. “I remember my first planet,” she told her conspiratorially. “Crash of the - wait, River, have you-?”

“I have,” nodded River. Amy sighed, relieved.

“Crash of the Byzantium,” she continued, taking Maggie’s hand in hers; the younger girl felt her face burn. “Come on, let’s go find a good spot while the boys mess about.”

Looking back, it was just in time to see the Doctor reaching up to ruffle Rory’s hair, then being rugby-tackled to the ground. “Roranicus, you’ve been practicing!” laughed the Time Lord gleefully before trying to wriggle free.

The three of them laughed before leaving the men to their games, trekking up a gentle slope to see the vastness of the countryside below. Up above, however, the people on the flying machines seemed very intrigued. “Hey, humans!” one of them shouted, sounding male. “Incoming!”

Before Maggie could look up there was a beautifully-crafted flying machine hovering down into the grass a few feet away, a small breeze ruffling her hair as she gaped. A perfectly normal-looking boy dismounted the sleek seat, turning a dial to stop the propellors spinning before stepping away. He wore a leather helmet with ear coverings, a pair of goggles, and a broad smile.

“Greetings, humans,” he announced warmly. “Welcome to Asgaard. Just passing through?”

He pulled off his helmet and goggles in one swift move, revealing tufted blue hair, a pair of tiny pointed ears, and narrow green eyes that had no pupils. Now that they were closer, Maggie could see the same strange shine to the boy’s skin, almost like scales or snakeskin, as there was in the air all round.

Seeming to notice her eyes lingering on him and his machine, the boy turned to Maggie and offered the little finger of his paw-like hand. “Greetings. I’m Naarde.” He looked up at his companion. “Raende, get down here! We’ve got humans!”

“I’m Maggie,” she finally replied, breathless with wonder. She didn’t quite know what to do with Naarde’s offered finger, but then he hooked it around the little finger of her own hand and they shook. “Oh! It’s a pleasure to meet you. May I please have a look at your machine?”

Naarde grinned at her, revealing clean rounded teeth. “The Winger? Certainly, come along!” This time he offered his arm, escorting her to the machine as his companion landed on their group’s other side and engaged with River and Amy. She was a beautiful female, with similarly-coarse blue hair that cascaded down her back and eyes of deepest brown.

The Winger was exquisite. It had a long, slim body of bronze tubing, a jumpseat, and a pair of small pedals that controlled not the propellors themselves, but what appeared to be a small generator.

“You pedal to keep a supply of energy, see?” explained Naarde, climbing into the jumpseat and pumping the pedals with his strong legs. On the generator a row of lights illuminated, the last one flashing for several seconds before solidifying. Then Naarde twisted a knob beside the steering apparatus and the propellors started spinning with a dull roar. It was much louder, and the wind more fierce, on the inside, and Maggie inched nearer to the alien boy to ensure she was as far from the spinning gears as possible. “Care for a spin?”

Gasping, Maggie quickly shook her head. “Goodness, no! I mean, no, thank you, perhaps I should rejoin my group?”

The boy smiled kindly and shut down the motors. “Maybe next time, then.”

She nodded gratefully and pulled back, jogging back to Amy and River’s sides, where they had been rejoined by the Doctor and Rory. Naarde and Raende took back off in their Wingers, becoming specks on the horizon in moments. Maggie was filled suddenly with the overwhelming regret of denying the boy’s offer.

“Why didn’t you go for a ride, Maggie?” asked River when she had resumed her seat, delicately sipping a glass of water. “You certainly seemed keen on them when we arrived.”

Unable to formulate a reason why, Maggie merely shook her head and watched their receding forms vanish with a heavy heart.

Seeming to sense her trepidation, the Doctor tossed an apple her way, snapping her back to reality. “It’s alright to be friendly with people, you know,” he assured her, “it won’t hurt your reputation like it would in 1900.”

She chewed that over in her mind as the rest of them chattered around her on the blanket, only dimly aware of the moment River refused a glass of wine and Amy bursting into shocked, happy tears. Then Rory made some move like he alternatively wanted to hit and embrace the Doctor, and she couldn’t help but laugh with everyone else.

“This is brilliant! I’m thirty-three and I’m going to be a grandmum,” said Amy, face going curiously blank. The Doctor poured her another measure of alcohol before lying back in the grass. They all followed suit and watched the Wingers streak through the shimmering sky. All was tranquil.

After their picnic Amy and Rory were dropped off back at home, giving River and the Doctor long-lingering embraces on the front stoop, even sparing a quick hug for Maggie despite the fact that they’d never met before that day. River positively glowed with happiness as they went back to the TARDIS and flew back to a tiny flat in Westminster.

Placing his hands on her shoulders, the Doctor left a feather-light kiss on River’s brow. “Give us twenty minutes, would you, love?” he asked, charging back to the ship with Maggie in tow. “Maggie, I need your help. How are you with scissors?”

It took longer than fifteen minutes, certainly enough, to get the Doctor a proper haircut and a new suit, but even though Maggie reminded him of the time he was adamant. “I have to look perfect. This is...this is important. This is vital, Maggie. I can’t...” He closed his eyes and swallowed roughly. “I can’t tell you now or I won’t go through with it. Just trust me, will you?” After staring hard at his own reflection in the mirror to straighten his bow-tie, he looked over his shoulder and smiled weakly.

“You look very handsome,” she told him with all the honesty in her heart. “Congratulations, Doctor. A father! You must be so...” She trailed off at the look in the Time Lord’s eyes, clasping her hands demurely at her front. “I’m sorry, I’ve been too bold, I’ll just keep to my room and let you have your evening together.”

As she tried to make a quick escape, the Doctor’s cool hand closed carefully around her wrist. “It’s okay, Maggie, you can come along. Just...give us space? The locals are peaceful, and the towers are beautiful. It would be a shame to miss it just to give an old sack like me time with the Missus.” He smiled fondly at her, patting her head briefly before letting go. “Shall we?”

At her nod they left together to fetch River. Despite the Doctor’s insistence that she wasn’t a burden, Maggie kept her distance when he knocked upon the door. When River answered she put hands to her beaming smile before throwing her arms around her husband. They held one another much longer than seemed necessary, the Doctor burying his face again in the warmth of her shoulder. The Doctor had an expression of overwhelming despair on his face when they drew apart, but kept it hidden from River as they returned to the TARDIS.

“So, Darillium,” he announced with much forced cheer and a heaviness to the set of his shoulders, “to see the singing towers.”


	3. Chapter 3

As they landed on the alien planet Maggie looked down to see she’d spilled something on her shirt, and ran to the wardrobe to change. And to give the Doctor and River privacy. There seemed to be something very wrong in the way the Doctor was smiling and holding his wife so close. If they didn’t already have such an easy companionship with one another Maggie would be under the impression that they were besotted newlyweds.

She found a vivid red jacket lodged between two very boring brown trench coats, and buttoned the double-breast just as the Doctor started calling for her. “I’m coming!” she replied, kneeling to re-lace her shoes.

When she made her reappearance in the console room the Doctor looked at her jacket and beamed, but didn’t offer an explanation. River had changed as well, though was still wearing charmingly practical clothes.

“Feel free to go explore, no one will hurt you here,” promised the Doctor before taking his wife’s hand. He wasn’t looking at either of them, instead staring somewhere far off in the middle distance, and he swallowed very roughly before opening the doors to reveal a world of shining gold beyond the doors. Once again, Maggie had to fight a gasp of surprise at its beauty.

Everything, the sky, the grass, the mountains, were all a blindingly shining gold but for the city, which towered, glittering darkly, over it all. River made and appreciative noise and gripped the Doctor’s hand tightly. “Oh, my love, this is just...” she trailed off wondrously. “Every day I think I can’t love this universe any more, and then you show up and take me somewhere new.”

The Doctor smiled sadly and led them off to a soft place in the grass. Maggie took this as her cue to wander off and find something to amuse herself. Seeing as the city was so near, she walked a short way onto the streets, following a winding path that was so far abandoned. A short distance away she could see a few natives, who appeared also to be gold. There were others scattered about as well, aliens from other planets, peoples of different humanoid states, some of them green or blue or made of stone. It was breathtaking.

Her thoughts were interrupted by someone colliding into her shoulder. “Oh! I beg your pardon!” she apologized, figuring it was her fault for wandering about so aimlessly while daydreaming.

A girl of the golden planet instantly thrust her hands out to steady Maggie, amber eyes wide as their hands brushed. “I am so very sorry,” she said in a low, almost dreamlike voice. White-golden hair cascaded from the crown of her head, waving mildly in the breeze. “I was lost in thought,” she explained further.

“As was I,” Maggie smiled apologetically. “Your planet is so -”

“...beautiful...”

Maggie blinked, feeling uncertain under the girl’s unwavering gaze. “Pardon?” she asked.

“ _You_ ,” breathed the girl, taking a tiny step nearer. Her eyes raked over Maggie’s face, her hair, her neck. “We have seen many travelers here, but you are a most beautiful creature. So many colors...”

Feeling herself blush furiously, Maggie closed her eyes as though expecting to wake up at any moment. “Me?” she asked, unable to keep disbelief from coloring her voice. Never had anyone looked at her with such unabashed awe, or told her so earnestly that they thought she was beautiful. Certainly John Thomas - God rest his soul - had written her some pretty-but-tired verses because he believed they were a good match, and her father’s crotchety old friends used to admire what a pleasant wife she could make, but never had anyone seen her for merely being herself as beautiful or extraordinary in the least.

She returned to her senses when she felt a hand on her arm, and saw that the girl was now enthralled by the sleeve of her jacket. It stood out like a beacon against the gentle gold of the native’s skin. “What is your name, beautiful human?” asked the girl, reaching up another hand to brush Maggie’s cheek.

“M-Maggie. Margaret,” she stammered, feeling heat rising to her face. “What is yours?”

The girl made a sound in her throat. “G’hari,” it sounded like. It was lovely, but when Maggie tried to repeat it they both collapsed into giggles. “May I show you something, Maggie?”

At her nod, G’hari took her hand and led her back toward the area she had just come from, bringing the Doctor and River back in her sights. “These are your companions?”

“Yes, I travel with them,” Maggie explained as they skirted around the couple, who were talking very seriously about something she couldn’t hear. “Where are we?”

Her mouth was stopped by G’ahri’s finger pressing to her lips, and she felt a thrill of warmth in her chest. They continued on across the slope, toward an outcropping of golden rocks that overlooked a wide valley. “This is a special place,” the girl explained. “We Darrlilia do not understand the nature of matter our city is made from, only that the towers grew from the earth like trees. They are black, as you can see, and glittering most sinisterly in the sunlight.

“But this is a special time of day, where the sun is hanging low and the shadows are long. Normally, the sky is red, but because of the approaching night it has been softened to gold. The stone of which the towers are made is special. It pulls in the light while the sun soaks it, and when the source is gone, releases the light back onto the world through glorious song. You will see.”

As she explained the planet to her, Maggie watched G’hari closely, taking in the tiny bronze freckles on her nose and the way she gestured so grandly to encapsulate the majesty of her world. There was something almost intoxicating in the way she held herself, all while holding Maggie’s hand at the same time. Her skin never warmed no matter how long they touched.

Night slowly fell over the valley, casting shadow over everything and pitching it into blackness like sinking into molasses. G’hari pulled in a breath, and as she released it Maggie could see a pinprick of golden light reflected in her amber eyes, then looked to find the source was the towers. What she had first dismissed as the sound of wind rose in volume and pitch as the light from the towers grew brighter, until Maggie could actually see tendrils of light swimming through the air toward them like fish.

Unable to help herself, Maggie looked over her shoulder at the Doctor and River. They were dancing slowly to the music the towers made, tucked against one another in a way one would grip a lifebelt.

Then there were cool, temperate lips against hers, a hand on her jaw holding her tight. Maggie stiffened, gasping in surprise, and G’hari quickly pulled away, looking ashamed of herself. “I am sorry,” she quickly said, skin turning a weak yellow in some form of blush, barely visible in the slow from the towers. “It is the music. Everyone brings their sweethearts to hear the music, and I merely hoped...you are so beautiful, Maggie...”

She didn’t reply, but instead turned back to the towers and watched their light reach out to her on the hillside. It felt as though there was a tangled nest of snakes in the pit of her stomach, writhing about in want to escape. “You’re beautiful too,” she murmured at her knees.

The sound of music filled the air with its tendrils of light, and when Maggie closed her eyes it was as though the light slipped into her chest and filled her up. Her lungs constricted, heart beat like a kick-drum, and skin prickled with its ghostly sound. She leaned her arm against G’hari’s, and their heads rested against one another in companionship. Everything went pear-shaped and fuzzy with fatigue.

Awareness came shooting back when G’hari gripped her arm. “You are falling asleep,” the girl smiled. “I will take you back to your clan.”

“Oh, they’re only -” Maggie was interrupted by a yawn, making G’hari smile. They clambered to their feet, only slightly ungainly with their legs dangling over the edge of the outcropping. She allowed G’hari to lead her back to the Doctor and River’s blanket by hand, relishing the contact.

The couple looked up from their embrace and broke into wide smiles at the sight of them. “Having a good time?” asked the Doctor gently. He had his wife’s head cradled against his shoulder, and she peered up between curls to grin.

Suddenly embarrassed by their clasped hands, Maggie let go and blushed. “Yes, it’s lovely. I’m just, ah, going to retire for the evening. Goodnight, Doctor, River. Um...G’hari.” They both smiled, jilted, and walked off in opposite directions.

“Goodnight, beautiful Maggie,” G’hari called after her, and she hid her face even in the darkness before the comfort of the TARDIS was found. She yanked the jacket from her shoulders and practically threw it aside, then fell onto her bed. Staring at the ceiling offered no comfort tonight.

She drifted for an hour or so, contemplating the feeling in her gut when G'hari held her hand, until she heard the Doctor and River's voices echoing down the corridor, amplified to the point of sounding deliberate. Realizing she hadn't yet changed into nightclothes anyway, she crawled out of bed to say a quick goodbye.

"You could stay," the Doctor was saying, leaning casually against the console. "Stay here, on the TARDIS, just until the baby comes. I could drop you off five minutes later and you'll go on to The Library like nothing happened at all."

There was an edge to his voice, something old and keening like an animal, that Maggie could barely detect over how hard he was trying to sound casual. 

River, however, seemed so content not to hear it. "My, aren't we feeling overprotective? It's almost as though you don't think I can look after myself."

Maggie pushed open the door to the console room as they laughed softly, stuttered and almost painful with an untold story she probably would never hear.

"It's alright, Doctor," assured River with a hand on her husband's cheek. "It's just one last trip, then I'll come back and we'll do the domestic thing. It was so nice to meet you, Maggie. You look after my old fella while I'm away."

As the older woman embraced her Maggie closed her eyes, not wanting to see the look on the Doctor's face as he watched them. "You have my word," she promised, keeping her voice light as they pulled apart. The vow sat heavy in her heart.

Looking impossibly happy, River turned back to the Doctor and wrapped her arms around his neck. He grinned mischievously. "Call me when you get there, alright? Bring your handcuffs and screwdriver." His smile softened until he was looking down at her as though she were the center of the universe. "Look at you," he breathed, "you're so _young_."

"I'm really not," laughed River back.

His hands tangling in her curls, the Doctor pulled her closer. "Oh, but you are," he told her. "When you get to be my age, even 200 years seem young." Maggie looked tacitly away as he left a lingering kiss on her lips. "I love you." 

Her eyes were drawn back, however, when be dropped to a kneel, smoothing a hand over the plane of his wife's abdomen before leaving a kiss there as well. "And I love you, too." He stood again and left yet one last kiss on River's lips before she departed with a glance over her shoulder at them both.

The moment the doors to the TARDIS closed the Doctor was wiping a weary hand over his face and charging back toward the console to take off. His breathing was shaky and erratic, and once they were in the vortex he slumped forward. Maggie rushed to his side instantly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Doctor, are you alright?" she asked, her voice small.

"Fine," gasped the Time Lord, ripping his head from his arms and tearing off around the edge of the console. "I'm brilliant. Beautiful wife, good friends, faithful TARDIS, what more can a man..." Like a monster possessed he bodily yanked a lever from the console, eliciting a pained shriek from the sentient machine, and threw it at the wall behind them. Maggie recoiled from him as he screamed in unfathomable pain, gnashing his teeth, pounding clawed hands into the flesh of his legs, tearing at his own hair before collapsing to his knees on the glass platform.

Silence fell. Uncertain of why, Maggie had started crying. She tottered cautiously forward and hesitated for what felt like ages before kneeling, wrapping her arms around the Doctor's shoulders. He latched his arms around her middle, hiding in the crook of her shoulder, and continued to breathe.

"I want to go with her," he nearly growled into her shoulder, not seeming to care about how oblivious she was to his plight. "What about the baby? She...and I _let_ her..." He breathed a long sigh, warm and sticky on the skin of her neck, and stood up to wipe the tears from his face. Maggie remained crouched for a few moments, listening to him struggling to breathe through his nose before reaching a hand to help her up. "Now we carry on."

She nodded, feeling too melancholy and bemused to think straight, and went to the door so she could give the Doctor space. However, just in the doorframe a thought occurred to her and she turned back.

"Doctor, if you've taught me anything in the past six weeks, it's...well, whatever it is you think River’s going to do, she probably would have done it even if you hadn’t ‘let her’."

A smile that could explode a star with its sadness bloomed over the Doctor’s face. He stroked a hand gently over the center column of the TARDIS to comfort the machine in apology. “Maggie Moss, I do believe you’re right,” he admitted. “Even after almost 200 years with my wife...I just wish we’d had _more time_. You humans are rubbing off on me.”

He turned back to the console. “Sleep well, Maggie.”

Swallowing thickly, she nodded. “And you, Doctor.”


End file.
